by Elle Kennedy
“It’s late,” she said when he didn’t continue speaking. “Maybe we should talk about this in the morning.”
“No.” He cleared his throat. “I need to tell you this now.”
“Why?”
“I… I guess I figured I should talk to you. Ethan has this girl he talks to all the time, and he knows all this stuff about her—” He stopped abruptly, something that looked like embarrassment reddening his cheeks. “Fuck, forget it. I don’t know why I came in here. Just go back to sleep.”
Abby blinked in surprise. Was he actually blushing? She’d gotten so used to his self-assured manner, his take-charge attitude, that she had trouble adapting to this sudden change in his behavior.
With visible discomfort, Kane made a move to get up, but she placed her hand on his shoulder. The heat of his skin instantly seared her palm, making her pulse race. She quickly dropped her hand back in her lap. Damn it. Why had she touched him? Why was she trying to keep him here when the smart thing to do was let him walk away? Far, far away.
“So Emily was your girlfriend,” she repeated, urging him to go on.
“High school sweetheart. We started dating when we were juniors. I was the running back for the school football team, and she was—”
“A cheerleader,” Abby filled in.
“No.” He corrected her, the corner of his mouth lifting. “The artsy girl. She was into painting, figures and portraits mostly, and one day I got roped into posing for her art class as a way to get out of detention.”
She snorted. “Don’t tell me you had to be naked.”
“It was high school,” he reiterated, rolling his eyes. “I was fully clothed. Had to sit there on this stool for two hours while fifteen kids sketched me. After class, Emily came up to me and asked if I would pose for her after school. She said my face had interesting lines.”
“And you fell madly in love with each other.”
“Not quite. We totally hit it off when she painted me, but at school I was kind of an ass to her.” Shame flickered in his eyes. “You know how high school is—the jocks date the popular cheerleaders, the art kids date other art kids, geeks date geeks. I was embarrassed to be seen with her. Fuck, I was such a jerk back then.”
“So what happened?”
“She gave me an ultimatum. Said I could either be her boyfriend in and out of school, or else she wouldn’t see me anymore.” He paused. “I was disgustingly in love with her. I didn’t want to break up, so the next day at school, I held her hand in front of everyone and asked her to sit with me at the jock table for lunch.”
Abby was oddly touched. She hadn’t thought the story would take that turn. So I dumped her was what she’d been expecting.
“We went out for the next two years, and after graduation we both applied to the University of Michigan. I landed a football scholarship, and Em was majoring in art. We moved into this little apartment off campus.” He released a breath. “We loved each other. Everything was really good. For a while.”
“What changed?”
“Nothing, if I’m being honest. Em was always really insecure, ever since high school. Even though I chose to be with her, it was like she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, you know?” His face creased with frustration. “It got worse in college. I was the big man on campus, on the football team, and she was still the same quiet, artsy girl. And it didn’t help that chicks were constantly throwing themselves at me. Em kept asking me when I would break up with her, why I was still with her.”
“Why were you with her?”
“Because she was amazing. So fucking smart, and she had the most sarcastic sense of humor. Plus, she never let me get away with anything. If I was being an ass, she called me on it. She kept me real, you know.” His tone darkened. “But no matter how hard I tried to convince her that I truly loved her, she refused to believe it.”
Abby wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the rest. She had a feeling it wouldn’t be pretty, judging from the look in his eyes. But he kept going, each word coming out in a harsh burst. “She killed herself in sophomore year. I came home to find her hanging from the ceiling fan in our apartment.”
She faltered. “Oh. Kane, I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t speak for a very long time, just sat there in the darkness of her bedroom, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. “You asked why I’m not interested in relationships,” he began gruffly. “That’s why. Every time I get close to someone, I think of Em, and how it felt to lose her like that.”
The revelation gave her pause. God, she knew exactly what he meant. The person closest to her had hurt her just as deeply, and she knew her inability to reach out to others had everything to do with her mother. Kane’s words brought a strange sense of relief. Made her feel like she wasn’t alone, that shutting down was something other people did too, not just her.
“Kane…” She hesitated. “I lied to you last night.”
His green eyes searched her face. “What did you lie about?”
“When I said… when I said I didn’t want to kiss you again.” Her breath came out in an unsteady puff. “I lied.”
Chapter 12
La Mexicana looked about as inviting as a crack house. Located in one of the seedier parts of the city, the restaurant was nothing more than single-story shack with a small brown sign that hung at an angle. A pair of skinny dark-skinned guys in their midtwenties were loitering out front, their shifty, uneasy gazes speaking of illegal activities. One of them let out a low whistle when he caught sight of Isabel. To her surprise, she felt Trevor’s hand tighten protectively on her arm.
The restaurant was practically empty when they walked in. Dimly lit, it featured a scattering of small tables with no tablecloths and a narrow wooden bar off to one side. One of the three patrons in the place stood up at their arrival. She immediately recognized Felix Esposito from the photograph Trevor had shown her on the plane. The man was average height, with angular, rodentlike features and a thick black mustache that looked completely out of place on his thin face. His head was shaved, and his eyes were a dark brown and surprisingly warm. Trevor had told her Felix worked for one of the big drug honchos in the city, collecting payment and doling out punishment when necessary. She had trouble picturing this man, who couldn’t be more than a hundred and twenty pounds, beating anyone up—that is, until he turned slightly and she noticed the butt of a small pistol poking out of his waistband. Ah, he preferred firepower to prove his points.
“Mr. Julian!” Felix exclaimed as he came up to greet them. He enthusiastically shook Trevor’s hand, looking so happy that Isabel had to wonder exactly what Callaghan had done to earn Esposito’s warmth and respect. “It is good to see you.”
“Good to see you too, Felix,” Trevor said in a Boston accent.
Esposito’s eyes widened in appreciation as his gaze landed on Isabel. “And this must be your beautiful wife!” He took Isabel’s hand without invitation and planted a sloppy kiss on her knuckles. “Señora, it is an honor.”
She graced him with a cool smile. Paloma was very distrustful of strangers.
“Felix, this is Paloma Dominguez-Martin.” Trevor chuckled. “But I like to think of her as the light of my life.”
“Yes, I can see why.” Felix stared at her with barely restrained lust, his gaze focused solely on the cleavage pouring out of the bodice of her dress. “Come, let’s sit. I must know how Mr. Julian came to marry a beautiful creature such as yourself.”
Isabel tried not to roll her eyes. Talk about laying it on thick. She and Trevor followed Felix to a table across the room. Esposito took the chair that faced the front door, and she noticed he was always aware of the entrance as well as the other patrons. She and Trevor sat side by side, and she immediately scooted closer and nuzzled his neck. She experienced a moment of light-headedness as the scent of his aftershave assaulted her. God, he smelled good.
Focus, Isabel.
Right. This was a crucial part of the plan, getting Felix to arrange a meeting wi
th Blanco’s representative.
“So how did you meet?” Felix asked after a sullen-faced waitress took their drink order.
Trevor offered a wide smile. “Paloma here knocked me off my feet. Literally.” He proceeded to describe their first meeting, how Paloma had stumbled into him on the Saint-Tropez pier, where Julian’s yacht had been docked. Love at first sight, of course.
“She was scheduled to return to Rio de Janeiro, but I convinced her to abandon the rest of her party and join me on the Phoenix, and that was it. I was a goner.”
Isabel beamed at Esposito. “We sailed around Europe,” she revealed in the Portuguese accent she’d mastered over the years. “It was the most romantic time of my life. Making love on the deck, looking up at the stars. And Julian is so generous!” She lifted the diamond pendant she’d slipped around her neck before leaving the safe house. “He bought me this on our one-week anniversary! Isn’t it beautiful?”
Felix nodded, examining the pendant with the kind of approval that told her he knew his way around precious gems. “Mr. Julian has always been a generous benefactor.”
The waitress returned with their drink orders, placing two glistening bottles of beer in front of the men and a glass of red wine before Isabel. She was surprised that this place even served wine. It was a total dump. The trio ordered their meals, and the waitress stalked off again, her face completely expressionless. Isabel suspected the girl was stoned.
During dinner, she made all the appropriate fawning noises, kissing Trevor’s neck, nibbling on his earlobe. She played the part of a love-struck bride to a T, and Esposito bought into it, chuckling and commenting more than once how lucky Trevor was to have found such an enthusiastic woman.
“Brazilian women are very sensual, I find,” Felix said, his eyes growing heavy-lidded as he admired Isabel’s chest once more.
“We are,” she confirmed. “I have never understood those silly Americans. So inhibited. All that second-guessing of themselves. Life should be lived. My late papa, God bless his soul, believed that enjoying yourself is the most important thing you can do.” Her eyes twinkled. “And I must admit, I do so enjoy spending Papa’s money.”
Felix laughed loudly. “Money is there for us to spend it. It is no fun letting it sit in a bank.”
Isabel cuddled close to Trevor, brushing her lips over his cheek in a sensual caress. “I like this man,” she said with a beaming smile. “He is—what is the American expression? A man of my own heart?”
Trevor gave her an indulgent smile. “That’s the one.” He pushed away his plate and rested his elbows on the table. “Speaking of money, why don’t we get to the business portion of this dinner?” he said to the other man, his voice light.
Interest flicked in Esposito’s eyes. “I must admit, I am curious about how I may be of service. What is it you think I can do for you, Mr. Julian?”
“I’d like an introduction.” The casual smile never left Trevor’s face. “I believe you might be able to contact someone for me.”
Felix’s brow puckered. “Who?”
“Samir Bahar. He is the representative for Luis Blanco.”
Isabel noticed the way Esposito’s face paled, just a little, at the mention of Blanco. His curiosity had dissolved into sharp suspicion and his mustache twitched as he took a long swig of beer, growing quiet as if debating whether to let the discussion continue.
“Why do you need to speak to Bahar?”
Trevor slung his arm over Isabel’s shoulder, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “I’m looking to buy my new bride a very special wedding gift, and I believe Blanco might be able to help.” When Esposito didn’t respond, Trevor lowered his voice. “I’m aware you’ve had dealings with him in the past, Felix. And I’d be willing to pay a handsome fee if you could arrange the introduction. Call it a middleman’s bonus, if you will.”
That got Esposito’s attention. “How handsome?” he asked slowly.
“Fifty grand.” Trevor arched a brow. “A lot of money for so little work, don’t you think?”
Pretending to be uninterested, Isabel picked at the food on her plate. She hadn’t eaten much of it—didn’t trust the kitchen in the back to be any cleaner than the main room. She let the men discuss the matter for a while longer, growing inwardly frustrated as Esposito continued to insist he wasn’t sure he could reach Bahar.
When the nape of her neck began to tingle in warning, Isabel lifted her head and found Esposito’s brown eyes focused on her. “You’re not eating, señora. Perhaps you are tired from all your travels?”
It took her a second to realize he had spoken to her in flawless Portuguese. “Actually, I enjoy traveling,” she replied in her supposed native tongue. “I’m just not very hungry tonight.”
“I suspect this meal is inferior compared to the Brazilian cuisine you are accustomed to. I had the pleasure of visiting São Paulo last spring—the city boasts many great restaurants.”
Esposito was smart—she had to give him that. “I do miss the cuisine of my country,” she admitted. With emphasis, she added, “Mas eu sou de Rio de Janeiro, não São Paulo.”
“That’s right,” he said, switching back to English. “Mr. Julian said you were from Rio. I must have forgotten.”
Must have been testing her, more like it. Despite his alleged loyalty to Julian Martin, Esposito had evidently been rattled by the mention of Bahar’s name, and her presence probably added to his uneasiness. Julian’s surprise marriage combined with his need for a sudden favor no doubt made Esposito extremely suspicious.
Better to let the man sit on it for a few hours, Isabel decided. Fifty grand for making a phone call. She had a feeling he wouldn’t take long to weigh the matter, but she knew that continuing to push him now was a bad idea.
So she slid closer, lowering her hand into Trevor’s lap with an impish little smile. He seemed startled, but didn’t break character. Rather, he ran his tongue along his bottom lip and shot her a sensuous look. “Soon, baby,” he murmured.
She stuck out her chin. “Now, meu amor.”
Without even blinking, Trevor scraped his chair back and stood up. Yanking his wallet out of his pocket, he dropped a handful of bills on the table. “I’m afraid my wife and I need to be going.”
Esposito was all but leering as he watched them hurriedly get to their feet. “I see that,” he said, his lips twitching.
“Call me when you make up your mind,” Trevor added, carelessly resting his hand on Isabel’s hip. “You know my cell number, but you can also reach me at Casa Medina. Honeymoon suite.”
“I’ll be in touch,” was all Esposito said.
“The sooner the better, Felix. My wife isn’t a very patient woman, in case you didn’t notice.”
Esposito grinned. Standing up, he extended his hand, and Trevor gave it a firm shake. “It was good to see you again, Mr. Julian.” His dark eyes moved to Isabel, no doubt to mentally undress her. “And an honor to meet you, Paloma.”
She held out her hand and he grasped it with both of his before lowering his head to kiss her knuckles. Used his tongue too, which made her want to vomit.
Her voice was low and husky as she said, “I hope we meet again, Señor Esposito.”
“As do I.”
They bade him good-bye and strolled arm in arm out of the restaurant. Outside, Isabel leaned her head against Trevor’s shoulder, murmuring, “So far, so good.”
The car was parked across the street, the driver looking bored as he got out to open their doors. As they settled into the plush backseat of the town car, Isabel glanced over at Trevor and said, “You think he bought it?”
He nodded. All the sensuality and teasing humor had drained from his face the moment they were alone, and he had reverted back to his usual expressionless self. “Yeah, he bought it.”
“Good.” She smiled grimly. “So now we wait.”
“Now we wait,” he confirmed.
Abby’s pulse vibrated in her throat as Kane slid closer. His eyes had
darkened to a smoky hunter green, thick with desire. “You lied,” he echoed softly.
“Yes.”
Saying that one little word took a lot out of her, but it seemed to please Kane. “Thank God,” he muttered. And then his strong hand was cupping her chin and his mouth came down on hers.
This time Abby expected the rush of sensation that swamped her body. It was familiar now, not as terrifying. Her heart drummed relentlessly, while her limbs went warm and rubbery. Kane’s tongue slid into her mouth, probing, searching. She hesitantly responded, touching his tongue with her own, and a shock wave of pleasure slammed into her.
She pulled back slightly. “Is it… is it supposed to feel this good?” she whispered against his mouth.
“Mmm-hmmm,” he murmured, dragging his lips along the line of her jaw.
He kissed his way back to her mouth, eliciting a small whimper from her. The whimper became a yelp as he wrapped one arm around her and pulled her into his lap. The second she settled over him, she felt the hard ridge of his arousal pressing against her thigh. Her thin boxer shorts did nothing to protect her from the heat that scorched her at the intimate contact.
Her tank top had ridden up, and Kane’s hands ran over her back, gently stroking her fevered skin as he kissed her. She suddenly felt awkward, uncertain. She’d never done this before. Kissed someone she wasn’t trying to get information from. Touched someone she wasn’t about to kill. Should she do something with her hands? Yes, she needed to touch him. That’s what women did to the men in their beds, right?
Kissing him deeper, she lowered one hand between them, seeking out his massive erection. As her fingers touched him over the material of his sweatpants, Kane let out a ragged moan.
And then he took her hand and moved it away.
“Is something wrong?” she said, a pang of anxiety tugging at her belly. It was followed by a sharp tug of self-reproach. Damn it. She didn’t know what to do here. This wasn’t her. She wasn’t the kind of woman who sat in a man’s lap and pushed her tongue in his mouth and—
“Nothing is wrong,” he said huskily, reassurance ringing in his voice. “It’s just… not time for that. I want this to be for you, Abby.”
